Seravian
Androgynous Dragon
Sitting upon the dais, the sun felt warm against Hadraniel's silver scales, which shone with a healthy luster. It was quiet, save for a few people scrambling about the square. He had arrived earlier than the people expected him. How? Well, he wasn't sure.
His great wings were folded at his sides, demeanor showing infinite patience, while he waited. The few in the square had started to spread word of his arrival. More and more began to filter in, but the event would not start until the king was present. He passed the time by admiring the grand city Kentallus, capital of the great Iverian Empire. He has been around long enough to have seen this city in its infancy, when there were barely enough houses to qualify it as a village. Over the past few centuries, it seemed to grow and prosper more and more, with grander buildings being erect, thanks to the efforts of those who stepped up to take the crown as well as the kingdom benefiting from a dragon guardian.
The structure he sat in, too, had changed much from a patch of dirt to a place set up in the heart of the city where he could roost. It overlooked the square, a place bustling with commerce, where one could not look anywhere without seeing a stand or store, or place to eat. Tall pillars stood on either side of him, four in total, made of fine marble. Hadraniel himself was at least sixteen feet tall, around average for a dragon, and yet this place held a sense of comfort, a testament to how much the people cared for him. Appreciated him. He could see his influence in the city's architecture, and especially saw it here where there was a dragon mural carved into the wall behind him.
Hadraniel slowly blinked his red-orange eyes and yawned. He lowered his head, crossed his hands, and felt himself drift off a bit.
Before long, the trumpets sounded, followed by the sounds of chanting caught his attention, and more people began to filter in. His arrival always brought a large crowd. People of all walks of life, young and old. Rich or poor. They all wished to see him. Not too surprising, considering he only made an appearance a handful of times a year. This, however, was the largest crowd he has witnessed to date.
Many gifts were presented to him. It never failed, they liked to see him adorned with jewelry. Sometimes ornaments for his horns, or bracelets large enough to fit around a dragon's wrist, fitted with fine stones and forged by a skilled hand. Necklaces. To name a few things. The envy of any royalty. Among these gifts, too, were some of the kingdom's finest meats to keep him well fed during his stay. In his younger years, it had been easy to get lost in the aromas of food and shiny trinkets. Now it all seemed so routine that he couldn't help but be jaded toward them, through his efforts to thank the people for their tributes.
The trumpets sounded again, this time to announce the king's arrival. A section of the crowd split open to allow the king and his men to approach Hadraniel. The man bowed to him. Hadraniel showed the same respect. This would be when they exchanged pleasantries, ensuring to keep peace between them. He had rehearsed what he was going to say, as he had many times before. But, to his surprise, conversation did not happen right away. The king stepped aside and nodded toward one of the knights positioned in the back of the guard.
A knight made his way to the front of the crowd. The dragon perked up, putting his full attention on him, curious. When the knight removed his helm, revealing a young man with sandy-blond hair, and kneeled before him, head lowered, he understood. He had seen this young knight many times before in his visits throughout the years. Just as he had watched the kingdom become what it is today, he has watched the knight grow from the young boy who had brought him flowers and smiled before being swiftly escorted away by the king's knights, to the man who stood before him now.
"Rise," he spoke in a deep, velvety voice capable of shaking the city's foundation.
The knight did as he was told, straightening himself, his light blue eyes meeting the dragon's deep, red-orange ones. He then reached under his cloak, pulled out a small orange flower, and presented it to the dragon. A small smile, the same he had seen every time they interacted, appeared on his face, which melted away any stoicism he tried to maintain.
Hadraniel returned the smile and held out a hand, wrist adored with one of the bracelets given to him today, beckoning the knight to come closer. He watched as the knight's smile widened, eager footsteps closing the distance between them. After a moment of hesitation, the knight planted a soft kiss at the base of Hadraniel's wrist. The gesture brought a fuzzy feeling to his chest, growing as the knight tucked the stem of the flower under the bracelet. Nice and snug, to ensure the flower stayed in place.
The two held eye contact. With a child-like giggle, the knight's hands glided across the dragon's scales, beginning at the back of his hands and ending just below the bracelet. Then gently moving back down again. He held one of his strong digits and looked up at him. Shifting, he lifted his other hand and brushed his claw against the knight's cheek in an affectionate manner. Too immersed in the moment, he barely heard the whispers in the crowd and doubted that the knight was aware of anyone or anything other than the dragon before him.
When the moment came for the knight to return to the group, Hadraniel actually felt sad. He wished the moment could have continued longer, but there were things to be done. Of all the gifts presented, this little orange flower was by far the one he treasured the most with each visit.
He would always treasure it, and his interaction with the young knight.
Even when it came time for him to return to his home, after his conversation with the king, he kept an eye on the knight. The one person who stood out in the crowd to him. The only person who has ever stood out.
His great wings were folded at his sides, demeanor showing infinite patience, while he waited. The few in the square had started to spread word of his arrival. More and more began to filter in, but the event would not start until the king was present. He passed the time by admiring the grand city Kentallus, capital of the great Iverian Empire. He has been around long enough to have seen this city in its infancy, when there were barely enough houses to qualify it as a village. Over the past few centuries, it seemed to grow and prosper more and more, with grander buildings being erect, thanks to the efforts of those who stepped up to take the crown as well as the kingdom benefiting from a dragon guardian.
The structure he sat in, too, had changed much from a patch of dirt to a place set up in the heart of the city where he could roost. It overlooked the square, a place bustling with commerce, where one could not look anywhere without seeing a stand or store, or place to eat. Tall pillars stood on either side of him, four in total, made of fine marble. Hadraniel himself was at least sixteen feet tall, around average for a dragon, and yet this place held a sense of comfort, a testament to how much the people cared for him. Appreciated him. He could see his influence in the city's architecture, and especially saw it here where there was a dragon mural carved into the wall behind him.
Hadraniel slowly blinked his red-orange eyes and yawned. He lowered his head, crossed his hands, and felt himself drift off a bit.
Before long, the trumpets sounded, followed by the sounds of chanting caught his attention, and more people began to filter in. His arrival always brought a large crowd. People of all walks of life, young and old. Rich or poor. They all wished to see him. Not too surprising, considering he only made an appearance a handful of times a year. This, however, was the largest crowd he has witnessed to date.
Many gifts were presented to him. It never failed, they liked to see him adorned with jewelry. Sometimes ornaments for his horns, or bracelets large enough to fit around a dragon's wrist, fitted with fine stones and forged by a skilled hand. Necklaces. To name a few things. The envy of any royalty. Among these gifts, too, were some of the kingdom's finest meats to keep him well fed during his stay. In his younger years, it had been easy to get lost in the aromas of food and shiny trinkets. Now it all seemed so routine that he couldn't help but be jaded toward them, through his efforts to thank the people for their tributes.
The trumpets sounded again, this time to announce the king's arrival. A section of the crowd split open to allow the king and his men to approach Hadraniel. The man bowed to him. Hadraniel showed the same respect. This would be when they exchanged pleasantries, ensuring to keep peace between them. He had rehearsed what he was going to say, as he had many times before. But, to his surprise, conversation did not happen right away. The king stepped aside and nodded toward one of the knights positioned in the back of the guard.
A knight made his way to the front of the crowd. The dragon perked up, putting his full attention on him, curious. When the knight removed his helm, revealing a young man with sandy-blond hair, and kneeled before him, head lowered, he understood. He had seen this young knight many times before in his visits throughout the years. Just as he had watched the kingdom become what it is today, he has watched the knight grow from the young boy who had brought him flowers and smiled before being swiftly escorted away by the king's knights, to the man who stood before him now.
"Rise," he spoke in a deep, velvety voice capable of shaking the city's foundation.
The knight did as he was told, straightening himself, his light blue eyes meeting the dragon's deep, red-orange ones. He then reached under his cloak, pulled out a small orange flower, and presented it to the dragon. A small smile, the same he had seen every time they interacted, appeared on his face, which melted away any stoicism he tried to maintain.
Hadraniel returned the smile and held out a hand, wrist adored with one of the bracelets given to him today, beckoning the knight to come closer. He watched as the knight's smile widened, eager footsteps closing the distance between them. After a moment of hesitation, the knight planted a soft kiss at the base of Hadraniel's wrist. The gesture brought a fuzzy feeling to his chest, growing as the knight tucked the stem of the flower under the bracelet. Nice and snug, to ensure the flower stayed in place.
The two held eye contact. With a child-like giggle, the knight's hands glided across the dragon's scales, beginning at the back of his hands and ending just below the bracelet. Then gently moving back down again. He held one of his strong digits and looked up at him. Shifting, he lifted his other hand and brushed his claw against the knight's cheek in an affectionate manner. Too immersed in the moment, he barely heard the whispers in the crowd and doubted that the knight was aware of anyone or anything other than the dragon before him.
When the moment came for the knight to return to the group, Hadraniel actually felt sad. He wished the moment could have continued longer, but there were things to be done. Of all the gifts presented, this little orange flower was by far the one he treasured the most with each visit.
He would always treasure it, and his interaction with the young knight.
Even when it came time for him to return to his home, after his conversation with the king, he kept an eye on the knight. The one person who stood out in the crowd to him. The only person who has ever stood out.